


Deep as Lakes and Dark as Stars

by Chash



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, Mild Spoilers, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Season/Series 02
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-11
Updated: 2015-06-11
Packaged: 2018-04-03 23:40:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4118917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chash/pseuds/Chash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Raven gives Clarke a present; Bellamy helps her use it.</p><p>(Really just porn, ngl.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Deep as Lakes and Dark as Stars

**Author's Note:**

> Sometimes you're like, huh, writing these other things isn't working out right now, screw it, porn. With some feelings, obviously, because have you met me?

"Okay, I hope you appreciate what I'm sacrificing here."

Clarke looks up at Raven, confused. She's been in the council chambers for three hours, looking over proposed trade agreements, and her eyes are starting to glaze over. She thought that maybe leaving for four months after killing three hundred people would have destroyed everyone's faith in her, but apparently not. She's still the one everyone turns to in a crisis, and it's still exhausting. "What?" she asks, blank.

Raven puts a small, metal object on the table in front of Clarke, a cylinder a little larger than a tube of lipstick. "You need it more than I do."

She blinks down. "Uh, thanks?" She picks it up, turning it over in her hands. "I appreciate it. Really."

"It's a vibrator," says Raven. "First one made on the ground, as far as I know. Took me a while to get the spare parts, and maybe it's not supposed to be a priority, but I wasn't getting laid when I started it. And now that I am, I'm passing it on to you. No offense, but there's no way you've gotten off since--" She clears her throat, avoiding Finn's name. "Anyway. The control's the button on the end, it's got three speeds. Not fancy, but it should work. Take it for a test run and let me know if it needs anything. I didn't try it, I thought that might weird you out."

Clarke rubs her face, looking at the vibrator. "Uh, thanks, I guess. This is--thoughtful. If a little strange."

"Hey, if you're not going to fuck Bellamy like you clearly should--"

"Raven," she says, weary.

"It really helps, trust me. He's great."

"Thanks." She licks her lips, looking at the vibrator. It _has_ been a while. And, honestly, she has thought about the Bellamy thing more than once, probably just because she's so fucking stressed, and he's the one who makes her feel better. And the one she spends the most time with. And her best friend. And, of course, very attractive, and definitely more than willing to sleep with her. And, shit, the combination of thinking about the vibrator and Bellamy is already having a very noticeable effect on her.

Damnit, Raven.

"No problem," says Raven, oblivious. "Enjoy. Let me know if it needs tweaking. I need to make some more. Who has time to get off with their hands right now?"

"Will do," she says, not really listening. She's too busy thinking about the little machine between her legs, drawing pleasure out of her. She's been doing her best to not think about her body's needs at all; she eats mechanically, she sleeps fitfully, bathes because she doesn't like being dirty. She doesn't have time for anything else. Her friends help with some of it; Monty will drag her away from work to take breaks sometimes, Bellamy brings her treats, sweets he's gotten from the grounders, berries he's found in the forest, sometimes just shiny rocks he thinks are pretty. And now, apparently, Raven is looking after her sexual needs.

She stays for ten minutes after Raven leaves, and then the distraction is too much. She has to go back to her cabin and try the stupid thing out. Like, all night. If it doesn't work, she might cry. She's so fucking wet.

No one approaches her on her way home, which doesn't surprise her. She might be respected, but she doesn't have a lot of friends. Raven's clearly turned in for the night, Bellamy's off on a trading mission, and Monty and Miller are distracted with each other, not that she blames them. Her mother is in the infirmary. No one is going to come looking for her.

She closes the door and strips out of her clothes, slowly, appreciating the feel of it. She hasn't looked at herself in a while, and she's thinner than she used to be, more scarred. But when she unhooks her bra and cups her breast, it feels as good as ever, and she falls into her cot, rubbing her nipple between her fingers. She doesn't want to think about anything, but it's Bellamy of course, smiling, leaning down, kissing her, like she _knows_ he would, if she told him she wanted him to. They've never said a word about it, but he's hers, just for the asking. 

She bites her lip, twisting her nipple. He'd probably be slow about it, take his time, or try, but she wouldn't want to be slow the first time. If she'd finally broken and said something, she'd want it fast, want him as soon as possible. They'd probably fight about it, her trying to get him inside her, him holding back, teasing her, making her wait. 

She slides her fingers into her underwear, rubs gently. She's so wet, but she's not ready for the vibrator yet, she wants to tease herself a little first. Like he would. God, he'd be so fucking smug about it, whispering dirty things in her ear, driving her crazy. Telling her all the things he's thought about doing to her.

She pulls off her underwear and fumbles for the vibrator, sliding it down against her clit, turning it on to the lowest setting. The buzz is quiet, but the vibrations are strong, rumbling through her, and she lets out a sharp moan before she gets control of herself. God, she's going to kiss Raven the next time she sees her. Fuck Wick, he just has to deal with it. Clarke loves his girlfriend.

Her hips arch up, pushing against the vibrator, already so fucking wired, and--

"Clarke? You okay?"

Her eyes snap open and, fuck, there's Bellamy, clearly just home, dirty from the road, looking anxious and tired and _so fucking good_. They lock eyes for a second before he has to glance down, taking her in: naked, on her bed, with her hand between her legs. She jerks it away and tries to figure out how to cover herself up. She kicked her sheets off already, and her clothes are too far. And the way he's taking her in, it's hard to really want to make him stop.

"I, uh--" he starts, turning bright red. She can see him swallow, and, fuck. He's _right here_. "I heard a, uh. A noise, and I thought you might have--"

"Close the door, Bellamy."

"Yeah, I'll--" he gestures outside, but makes no move to leave. "I'll just--"

She wets her lips and stretches out on the cot, trying to look inviting. Not that she really thinks he needs much encouragement. He can't stop looking at her. "I told you to close the door, not leave."

"Oh," he says, a breath, and closes the door. He doesn't come over, just leans against the door, eyes on her.

"Raven made a vibrator," she says, lifting it up to show him. "Apparently she decided I needed it more than she did."

"Oh," he says again. "Well, uh--glad you're getting some. Me time."

"Well, it was her second choice. Her first choice was just you and me fucking."

"That's a lot of investment in your sex life from her," he says. He's staring, but he's still not moving. His eyes are almost black, and she doesn't break her gaze as she slides the vibrator back between her legs, turning it on again. She slides her hand back up to her breast, and, god, it's so much hotter with him _here_. "Clarke," he says, voice so fucking rough and deep, but helpless too. "You're--"

"I was thinking about what you'd do if you were here," she tells him. "This wasn't exactly what I pictured."

"Jesus," he says, pushing away from the door. He trips trying to get his boots off as he walks, tosses his jacket aside and kicks off his jeans. She turns the vibrator off and goes to put it away, but he takes it out of her hand, leaning in to kiss her. His lips are chapped, rough, cold from being outside, and he kisses her like he's starving for it, hard and desperate. "Fuck," he murmurs, placing the vibrator back against her clit and turning it on. "Clarke, I--"

She gasps and arches up against him, manages to get enough control of herself to pull his shirt off. "Yeah," she says, fisting her hand in his hair and gripping hard. "Me too."

"I'm going to make you say it later," he says, pressing the button on the vibrator again, turning the strength up, making her whine. Her hips are pumping helplessly. "How long's it been?"

"I've only gotten off once on the ground," she says.

"God, you should have told me sooner."

"I know."

He kisses her neck, down to her breasts. "How many speeds does it have?" he asks, swirling his tongue around her nipple. She slides her leg over his, pushing closer. She can feel his erection through his boxers, and it makes her ache, feeling so fucking empty. 

"I don't care, turn it off and fuck me."

"Sorry, but have you heard the sounds you're making? Fucking unbelievable." He turns it up again, and maybe he has a point, because the sound she makes is inhuman. "Remind me to do something really nice for Raven."

"Do something really nice for me first."

He laughs and kisses her again, quick and dirty, and then he slides down, getting between her legs, and slides his tongue inside her as he keeps working the vibrator. She arches up most of the way off the bed, hand going so tight in his hair it must hurt, but he doesn't seem to mind at all.

"Bellamy," she gasps, and comes all at once, hard and shattering, a release of what feels like years of tension. God, Raven was really, _really_ right. She needed this. And she definitely needs to fuck Bellamy. A lot.

He turns the vibrator back down to the lowest setting but leaves it pressed against her, coaxing her through the orgasm with it and his mouth, and when the last tremors finally die down, he turns it off, puts it on her beside table, and lies down next to her, giving her a smile that's somehow all hope. "Better?"

She pulls him in for another long kiss. He tastes like her, and she chases the flavor in his mouth. "Not yet," she says, pushing on his boxers. He kicks them off and settles between her legs, hard and hot, and Clarke pushes back into him.

"You have to say it first," he says, smug. "I'm not going to let you break my heart, Griffin. I've been hurt before."

She wants to laugh, like it's a joke, because she remembers plenty of girls being heartbroken over him, when they first came down, or at least disappointed that he wasn't looking for the same things they were, and nothing like that for him. But then she remembers his face when she left, and when she came back, and sobers.

"I'm not leaving again," she says, brushing her nose against him, kissing him again.

"Not what I was looking for."

"I'm yours," she says, and that makes him grin.

"Close enough." He kisses her jaw. "If we do this tonight, I'm going to be back tomorrow. And the next day. I'm probably just going to move in."

"Good." She slides her hands down his back, pulls him closer. "Stop stalling, Bellamy."

"I'm appreciating the moment. This is a big deal, okay?" He nuzzles her jaw. "You're still, uh--implant, or whatever? I assume you don't want kids yet."

It makes her heart trip up, makes it feel more real than anything else either of them has said. "Yeah, I had a checkup last week." Her mom had seemed to be fishing to see if she was using the thing, which was just as embarrassing as having her look at it in the first place. "We're good."

"Good," he says, kisses her and slides inside, stretching her wide. It's been a while, and the feeling is both familiar and brand new, because this is _Bellamy_ , and she does love him, like she hasn't loved anyone she's ever had sex with before. Like she hasn't loved anyone before, honestly.

He fucks her slow and deep, rolling his hips into her, whispering endearments against her throat, driving her slowly out of her mind. It's perfect until it isn't, and then she groans and rolls them over, rides hard and fast until he comes. He laughs, like he's surprised, and pulls her down for a kiss.

"My way, you were going to get off first," he says, sliding his hand between her legs again.

"I don't care," she says. "I fucking needed that."

"You're so impatient," he teases, biting her neck. His fingers are rough and perfect on her already sensitive clit, and she shudders against him as she comes again, not as hard or as long, but still so fucking perfect. "Anyone ever tell you good things come to those who wait."

She finds her blanket and pulls it back over them, snuggling against his broad chest. "I know," she tells him, soft. He slides his arms around her and kisses her hair, and she falls asleep with her ear pressed up against his heart.

*

At breakfast, Raven asks, "So, did you try it? How'd it work?"

Clarke turns red and glances over at Bellamy, who's on a guard shift. He left this morning with a long kiss, and a promise he'd see her later. He's been looking at her every few minutes, so it doesn't take long for him to meet her eyes; he smiles, all warmth and affection, and she smiles back. "Yes, um," she says, tearing her eyes away from Bellamy with an effort. "I tried it. It worked really well."

"Got the job done?"

"Oh yeah," Clarke tells her, ducking her head for a smile. "And then some."


End file.
